Chapter 15



Roslyn awoke suddenly, frantically flipping her head from side to side, her eyes unadjusted to the darkened room she found herself in. She could see a strip of light across the room near the floor, leading her to believe it was a door, but the light didn’t filter through the room enough to help her see in it. She squirmed on the cushy surface she was laying on, swinging her right hand out to the side and then yelping out as an acute pain shot through her hand.

“Ow,” she cried softly, rubbing her sore limb, trying to figure out what she had hit it on. She heard a noise beside her and she froze, afraid of what was happening.

“Roslyn, are you awake?” a voice asked before a lamp turned on and dimly illuminated Roslyn’s surroundings, and the person she hit her hand against.

“Nick,” she mumbled as her eyes fell onto the warmly familiar and welcome face of the man that has ceased to leave her side willingly since his arrival. She glanced around the lit room quickly, allowing the memories of earlier hours to float back into her mind and take the confusion and questions away. “What time is it?” She wiped the corners of her lips and then smacked her mouth open and closed a few times trying to get rid of the cotton-like feeling that she had in it.

“2:30 am,” he responded after looking at his watch. “Here,” he said, handing her a glass of water. “This will help.” She took a few sips of it and her cotton-mouth slowly subsided.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, clearing her throat a little. They were silent for a few minutes, neither one knowing the right thing to say. She remembered him crying for her when he thought she was dead; she remembered the things he had told her, the promises he had made, but now that she was still here, would he still mean them? Should she ask him? She should even let on that she heard him?